Shadows of the Dark Crystal (19 page)

But they weren't falling. Instead, their descent was light and airy, like a plumed seedpod drifting on the wind. Looking over her shoulder, Naia saw skekMal hunched in the window of the castle, screeching madly after them, and then she saw them—
felt
them.

Black and iridescent, reflecting the light of the storm in vibrant blues and fuchsias, Naia's wings held them afloat, high above the wood and away from the terrors within the Castle of the Crystal.

“Naia,” Gurjin said. “They're beautiful . . .”

Naia did not have time to enjoy the moment—the wind broke abruptly, and they faltered, dropping from the heights before another updraft came and buffeted their fall once more. Above, in the tower, skekMal's shadow had disappeared from the window. Naia tightened her grip on Gurjin. The Hunter would be coming after them, no doubt. They were not safe yet.

Far below, hidden by the shadow clusters of the wood, she heard the whistling call of a hollerbat, and a smile broke her features before she could think to stop it. The ground was fast
approaching, and she gathered her wits, attempting for the first time in her life to maneuver in the air. It was rather like throwing a
bola
with her off hand, familiar but uncoordinated, and they veered suddenly, careening toward the earth. It was all she could do to aim for the water of the moat, and they splashed into it, Naia holding tightly to her brother despite the temporary shock that came from the cold water. Her gills opened, and she took a breath, orienting herself in the murky black water before swimming to the bank. The water was thick with algae and weeds, and almost as cold as ice. Her limbs were numb and aching by the time she broke the surface, sticky black algae stuck to her face . . . and then warm hands grasped her by the arm and hauled her up. When her knees were on the bank, she twisted and, in turn, hauled Gurjin from the deep moat. Cold as the water was, it seemed to have done him good, his body moving with greater control and rising confidence. Naia turned to the one who had pulled her from the water—had whistled the signal from below—throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly.

“You shouldn't have,” she whispered. “It's dangerous—they're coming. The Skeksis—”

Kylan the Song Teller of Sami Thicket nodded, rising and helping her to her feet.

“Then we'd better move, hadn't we?”

Gurjin stood on his own when she and Kylan tugged on him and, though his movements were still sluggish, he was able to run beside them as they made their escape into the wood. The storm had eased, finally, thunder receding into the distance and replaced
with only a steady cold rain that Naia hoped would dampen their scent. The Dark Wood was the domain of the Hunter, and now his pursuit of them was personal. Her heart ached when she thought of him, the cruel way he had disposed of Tavra—but she had no time for tears, not even to worry for the soldier, if she was still alive—or mourn if she was otherwise.

“The Skeksis betrayed us,” Naia told Kylan, in case they should be separated. “We have to escape. We have to tell the All-Maudra!”

“I left the Landstrider at the river,” Kylan said. “A shortcut, I hope, if we can make it in time!”

Something else had to be said, and Naia made sure it was, before it was too late.

“I'm sorry about before,” she said. Kylan met her eyes and nodded back.

“I know. Me too.”

A crash behind them brought them to a brief halt. Naia knew, in her mind, that stopping to look back was the worst way to flee, but the reaction was reflexive. Through the wood, a monster was coming, and from its loathsome enraged breathing and then the bone-chilling cry it loosed, she knew it could only be skekMal. Gurjin suddenly snagged Naia by the elbow, yanking her to the side and into the hollow of a fallen tree stump. Kylan skidded to a halt and followed. There in the dark, they listened to the sounds of the monster hunting for them.

“Sorry,” Gurjin said, panting. “They've taken so much out of me. I don't think I can run.”

“Then we'll wait,” Naia said. “I'll call the Cradle-Tree. Maybe it can hide us, help us escape.”

Gurjin shook his head. “skekMal is relentless and master of the Dark Wood. Unless he is stopped, he will find us. He will kill us.”

Tears sprouted in Naia's eyes.

“What . . . what are you saying?” she asked, though she knew the answer.

“We don't have time. Dreamfast with me, now!”

Naia numbly took her brother's hands when he reached out to her, and then all at once, every memory that lived within his mind crashed upon her.

“R
ian! Are you in here?”

Rian? I know that name . . .

Naia—no, this was her brother's memory, she was Gurjin, now—shouldered open the door to the room he shared with Rian. Looking upon the little space, it was clear which half belonged to the Drenchen and which to the Stonewood Gelfling. Where Gurjin's posessions were strewn in practical piles of clothing, rope, and experiments in metal-molding
vliyaya
, Rian's were in orderly stacks: books, papers, and a few finely crafted wood sculptures. The only thing amiss on Rian's side at the moment was Rian, pacing, wringing his hands. He was Gurjin's age, with thick brown hair and olive skin, a few stone beads hanging from a cord around his neck. He was still in his uniform from the previous night, and looked up with exhausted, worried eyes when his friend entered.

“There you are!” Gurjin exclaimed. “What's gotten into you? Everyone's looking for you since you and Mira missed your shift this morning. Doesn't seem fair I'm the one who's being held accountable. But I guess it's usually the other way around . . . Come on.”

Gurjin grabbed his friend by the arm, but Rian pulled away so suddenly, Gurjin jumped back.

“Mira's gone,” Rian said, the first thing he'd had to say since Gurjin had found him. Gurjin frowned in response.

“You two didn't run out last night and get into some trouble, did you? Aughra's Eye! I'll never hear the end of it if you did . . .” Gurjin trailed off at the blank, troubled stare he was getting. Rian was usually full of life, talkative and forthcoming. It did not bode well, and Gurjin's heart sank when Rian's next words confirmed the worst:

“Mira's dead.”

It was hardly imaginable. In shock, Gurjin could only ask, “What?”

“The Skeksis,” Rian breathed, eyes widening, warmth finally coming to them, though it was a heat of fear. “They took her—last night, when she returned from watch—Lord skekTek called her to his chambers. I wanted to see her when she was done speaking to him, so I waited . . . but she never came back. When I went to the chamber to see where they had gone, I saw . . . I saw . . .”

Rian's voice went empty, at a loss for words. Feeling light-headed, Gurjin closed the door to their barracks before returning and gently shaking his friend by the shoulders.

“What did you see?”

“Lord skekTek bound her to a chair,” Rian said. “He opened a window in the chamber wall . . . it opened into the shaft below the Crystal. It was burning bright. I had to shield my eyes. They made her look into it, and . . . it drained her. I don't know how. Her face—her eyes—the life was drained out of her. Withering like a dying flower in the sun.”

Gurjin didn't want to hear the rest, covering his mouth and feeling his heart pounding, but Rian went on, unable to stop now that he had started.

“They drained all her life by making her stare into the Crystal's light,” he said. “And they pulled her life force into a glass vial. Drop by drop. They stole her
vliya
and she died, Gurjin!”

“You lie,” he said, though he didn't believe it. Rian had no reason to lie, and certainly not about something like this. Gurjin shook his head, boxing his own ears gently, trying to make sense of it all. “The Skeksis Lords . . . They wouldn't—why Mira? Why anyone?”

“I don't know,” Rian said. “But we're in danger. Our people are in danger. We have to tell the All-Maudra.”

Gurjin agreed; that much was obvious. His mind was still spinning from Rian's telling, but they didn't have time to spin in confused circles, doing nothing.

“You know, no one's going to believe us,” he said. “
I
hardly believe you! How are you going to convince the All-Maudra that the lords—the
Skeksis Lords
—have done this? All they'll need to do is call us liars and then it'll be our word against theirs . . . Rian, unless we have proof, we're doomed.”

“Then we'll get proof,” Rian said. “The bottle of her life's essence. Lord skekTek took it with him. If we could get the bottle, maybe we could save Mira—maybe we could use it as proof to bring to the All-Maudra.”

“Rian. Rian, Rian,
Rian
. Do you hear what you're saying? This is death!”

“Isn't it death if we let them continue?” Rian insisted. “Whatever it is they're doing?”

Gurjin paced, tugging on his locs, thinking. They had made Mira look upon the Crystal . . . but why would looking upon the Heart of Thra cause such a terrible thing to happen? The Skeksis were the sworn keepers of the Heart of Thra, the Crystal of Truth—not even the castle guards were allowed in the Crystal Chamber where it resided. Only the Skeksis, but once in daily ritual, were permitted to enter the chamber and look directly upon the Crystal. It gave them life, in return for their protection.

The Crystal is cracked
, Naia said within the dreamfast, answering the question in her brother's memory.
I saw it in the chamber. It is no longer the Crystal of Truth, the Heart of Thra. It's broken.

Yes
, Gurjin replied.
But we didn't know that then.

The dreamfast changed, time passing, memories condensed and flying by in flickers that Naia's mind could not separate. Rian and Gurjin kept their secret from the other guards, waiting for an opportunity. Slowly, their ranks diminished, guards disappearing here and there from different wings of the castle. Once they were gone, they were never seen again. Darkened creatures began appearing in the wood that surrounded the castle; even the forest itself seemed bespelled by whatever it was the Skeksis had done to the Heart of Thra.

The crystal veins have always spread through the earth
, Gurjin's voice said from within the dreamfast.
Bringing life. Bringing light. But the Skeksis realized they could use its power. Once that
happened . . . once they turned the Heart of Thra against its own creatures . . . that was when the Crystal began to darken. That was when the shadows grew. They are perverting the power of the Crystal and turning it black.

Once more she took Gurjin's place within the dream. It was twilight, and she was running through the Dark Wood. Someone was running alongside her—Rian. In his hand was a glass vial, a tight cork the only thing preventing the precious blue liquid within from splashing out, evaporating their only chance of convincing the All-Maudra of the Skeksis betrayal.

The
vliya
?
Naia asked.
In the vial?

Yes. They drink it, like nectar. It gives them life . . . our life. Now that they have tasted it, they are mad for it . . .

Behind them, screams of the Skeksis shrieked like a murder of crow-bats, their enraged echoes making it seem as though they numbered in the hundreds.

“
Traitor!
” they screamed.
“Traitor to the castle! Traitor to the Crystal!”

“They're gaining!” Rian shouted. “How can something so old and big be so
fast
?”

Gurjin's heart labored in his chest, and then his boots sank into wet dirt—they had reached the Black River. Here it cut through the Dark Wood in a sunken miniature valley, and for the moment they were hidden behind the higher land on either bank.

“We need to split up,” Gurjin said. “It's the only way. If we're found together, we'll be caught together. You go ahead and take
the river. I'll distract them here as long as I can and then meet you in Stone-in-the-Wood.”

“I know what you're doing, Gurjin, and I won't accept it!” Rian retorted.

“Come on! We only have one bottle of that
vliya
, and you have allies in Stone-in-the-Wood. You think your people are more likely to hide a stranger from the Swamp of Sog, or one of their own? Now get out of here, they're coming!”

Gurjin made to shove his friend into the steady current of the river, but Rian took hold of his jerkin first.

“If you're caught, I'll come back for you,” he said. “I'll save you.”

“Should it come to that, you cannot save me,” Gurjin said, and listening within the dreamfast, Naia recognized the words. “If you do, you'll meet with the All-Maudra empty-handed—you'll stand before her alone. Our clans will be marked as traitors, and it will only be a matter of time before the Skeksis come for retribution. You're a better leader than I am, and you saw what they did with your own eyes. It's more important that you escape. Now go!”

Reluctantly, but knowing time was precious, Rian nodded and waded out into the river. It was then that the clambering claws and bays of the Skeksis in pursuit mounted the bank—over the hill they came in their black hunting cloaks, six of them with eyes burning in rage, skekMal the Hunter at the lead. Gurjin drew his sword, and they converged upon him, so quickly and ravenously, he didn't even have time to run away from the river, to lead them from his friend. As skekUng the General seized him in his crushing claws, hoisting him into the air with a guttural cry,
Gurjin saw skekMal lunge into the river, raising froth in the black waves as he pursued Rian and the tiny bottle of blue
vliya
.

“It's me, I'm the traitor!” Gurjin cried, grasping for any words that might keep them from the Gelfling in the river. “I'll tell everyone the Skeksis are the villains—I'll turn them against you, the castle—”

“Quiet, Gelfling!” roared skekUng, shaking Gurjin so hard, his teeth rattled.

“Even the All-Maudra,” Gurjin gasped. “Your power will end!
Just you wait and see!
”

In a fit of rage, skekUng howled again and brought his big clawed hand across Gurjin's head like a club, and everything went black.

When Gurjin awoke, his head pounded with pain that seemed to pulse through every part of his battered body. Even the tips of his ears and nose ached, and when he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry. He tried to move, but he could not—his wrists and ankles were clamped to a cold metal chair. He was bound to the throne-like contraption in a drafty chamber that groaned with the sounds of the earth, as if he were many miles underground.

“Awake,” said a Skeksis voice behind him. “Just in time.”

Lord skekTek the Scientist took his time crossing the room, pulling his sleeve back from his artificial arm so he might reach the lever appendage jutting from the wall. The metal claw was the only thing more terrifying than his biological one. It gleamed in the dim light of the chamber like silver-black bone. When he pulled down the lever, a clanking and mechanical moan
shuddered
through the chamber. The panel in the wall Gurjin faced began to rise, and a draft of burning, dry air spewed forth. Though the panel was raised only a crack, the red light blazing from the furnace-like shaft beyond was blinding, burning all other images from Gurjin's already failing sight. He could only hear Lord skekTek grunt, pulling another lever to release a control arm from beyond the panel, within the shaft. Gurjin knew what was coming next and struggled, trying to pull his arms and legs free from the metal clutches of the chair.

“Gelfling always cry about not seeing the Crystal,” skekTek said, ignoring Gurjin's fruitless attempts to escape. The chair had been engineered to hold a Gelfling, of course, and Gurjin knew that—still, he couldn't bear to remain passive knowing what was coming. If he didn't escape . . . A surge of panic renewed his efforts as a loud
CLANG
resounded from within the shaft of light. The reflector, a mirror mounted on a long metal arm, was coming into view. Though Gurjin did all he could to look away, the mirror began to shine, then hum, as it caught the light from the darkened Heart of Thra high above it. Its rays found him and its song consumed him and he could not look away.

The Scientist gave a delighted coughing cackle as his captive's struggles died.

“Don't cry, Gelfling,” he sneered. “Gets to see the Crystal
now
.”

“Wait!”

skekTek let out a loud hiss, throwing back the lever so the mirror drifted just out of view. As the reflection of the light wavered, Gurjin broke out of the gaze, though his body was still
strapped to the awful chair. He couldn't see behind him, but the Chamberlain's voice was unmistakable.

“Wait!” he cried. “Wait, wait. Emperor skekSo orders wait. Not this one. Save this one.”

“Save? Why?” skekTek hadn't removed his claw from the lever, ready to shove it back into action at any moment. The Chamberlain sighed his melodious sigh.

“This one. Has a sister . . .
hmmm
, a twin. One and one. Two halves, same soul, yes? The Emperor thinks it is worth saving until we have the sister. Special Gelfling.
Rare
Gelfling. Like us. Two halves, yes? Worth waiting for, yes? Maybe special essence. Maybe powerful essence.”

skekTek's grip on the lever hadn't wavered at first, but now his eyes narrowed in thought, and he hobbled toward the Chamberlain, leaving the lever where it was. Gurjin's heart hammered against the strap that was buckled across his chest so hard, he felt it might even break him free. He twisted his ears to listen, in case he might survive. He couldn't let them bring Naia into this—but how would he stop them?